


The Silence is What Kills me

by sarkywoman



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Buried Alive, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: He can’t remember how long their father said it would “prolong life in circumstances of low oxygen”.For the 'Buried Alive' square at badthingshappenbingo on tumblr. When one of the Hargreeves are buried alive, it's a race against time for the others to find them.
Comments: 26
Kudos: 185
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	The Silence is What Kills me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stabbyumbrella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stabbyumbrella/gifts).



> An early birthday gift for gratednutmeg

_It’s dark when he wakes. Pitch black. He turns to his side and realises the surface beneath him is too hard to be a bed. His thoughts feel sluggish. He pushes himself up a little and his shoulder collides with something solid above him. He twists onto his back again and hits up. Confused, he reaches a hand above his head. His elbow hits a wall at his right as he tries, then his hand taps another wall above his head. He slaps out with his left hand and hits a wall there too._

_After a breath to calm himself – not as deep as he normally would, in the circumstances – he shuffles down a little just to check thoroughly. Sure enough, his feet hit obstruction._

_“Shit.”_

*

Diego takes inventory as he makes his way home.

Broken ribs, busted ankle, possible concussion, stitches needed for his arm, probably a bit of internal bleeding judging from the pain near his abdomen. Nothing he hasn’t survived before, though not usually all at once. 

He blinks every time cars pass with their headlights on. The glare causes a sharp pain in his skull every time the beams hit his eyes. Maybe he should hitch a ride. 

Nah. Can’t trust random drivers like that. They could be anyone. Especially if they’re willing to pick up someone like him. He probably looks terrifying right now. 

Spying a bench, Diego gives serious thought to sitting down to catch his breath, get his bearings. But he can’t. There’s no time to waste. Even a pause could mean life or death. 

Not _his_ life or death, but that only made it worse. 

He’s actually startled to see the Umbrella Academy building when he reaches it. How long has he been walking? Definitely concussed then. It feels like no time has passed at all, yet here he is at home. Crazy that he’s calling it home these days. But now Allison’s moved in and so has Vanya, Klaus is there more often than not, and Five…

Shaking his head hurts but it wakes him up a little. Diego forces himself up the steps and shoves the door open. 

“HEY!”

There’s no time to wander the house looking for everyone. He actually isn’t sure he can. Dizziness is about to make him hurl.

Where the fuck is everybody? He shouts out again. 

“What is it, Di-- oh my god.”

Vanya rushes to his side and he doesn’t like to lean on her but it doesn’t seem he has a choice. Fuck, he hopes he doesn’t throw up now. She steers him into the front room, calling for Mom.

“We _told_ you not to go alone,” Luther snaps. Wait, when did Luther get here?

“Wasn’t alone,” Diego wheezes. His ribs are killing him. 

Klaus is crouching by Diego’s knees now, though Diego couldn’t say when he got there. He looks up with those big eyes full of concern.

“Dee? Where’s Five?”

*

_A deep breath, deeper than he should. Five strains again, a roaring in his ears as he focuses on tapping into that feeling inside that lets him move in ways nobody else can, through time and space itself. But the air remains stale. Staler than it had been when he first woke. He tries not to think about that._

_He remembers the dart hitting his arm, how he had wrenched it out and glared at the offending projectile before everything started going fuzzy. Diego had shouted his name as he fought the Commission’s goons. Five hadn’t even been able to respond before the floor rose up to meet him._

_How long could it take for the drugs to wear off anyway?_

_How long for the air to run out?_

*

“Diego’s going to be fine,” Luther says firmly. “And we’re going to find Five.”

Allison nods. Vanya fidgets with her sleeves nervously. Klaus is still gnawing at his thumbnail.

They haven’t been a team for a long time. Their current living situation has led to some cooperation, especially when it came to the Commission’s continued attempts to remove them from the timeline. But in times of need, it’s Luther’s duty to rally them together and direct them accordingly.

“Vanya. You’ve been going through dad’s old reports lately. Can you see if you can find anything about impeding Five’s teleportation? I don’t want to think he’s dead--” Klaus makes a distressed sound but Luther won’t be derailed “--which means someone is preventing him from using his powers.”

“Sure.” She rushes from the room and Luther can already hear her on the stairs before he turns to Allison. “Me and you are going to take to the streets to find these guys. We’ve got the reports Diego and Five were working from. If we find them, we can use your Rumour to find out what they’ve done with Five. I know you don’t like using it...”

“To save my brother’s life?” Allison says, eyebrows raised. “I’ll use it without hesitation on these assholes.”

“Great. Let’s get going.”

But Klaus stands up too, swaying a little. Luther puts a hand on his shoulder. “We won’t need you. It’s okay.”

“But Five--”

“You’re high,” Allison says firmly. “Just stay here and listen out for trouble.”

“I’m sure Diego will be happy to see you again when he wakes up,” Luther says gently. “Wait for us to get back, okay?”

Klaus sighs and sinks into the sofa looking miserable. Luther feels a little bad about it, but if Klaus can’t focus he’d be in danger in the field.

A leader has to make tough choices.

*

_Five keeps expecting the lid to rustle and lift above him, revealing the Handler’s smug smile. It would be a typical power play from her, scaring him to death only to ‘save’ him at the last minute. She liked making him indebted to her. Unfortunately, the more time that passes the less likely it is that this is a non-fatal torment. The air feels thin. Five catches himself taking gulps of it and has to force himself to calm and breathe slower. The suffocation training of their youth is undoubtedly paying off, though he would have preferred to never have to use it._

_He can’t remember how long their father said it would “prolong life in circumstances of low oxygen”. He can remember the longest a person is likely to survive is about five and a half hours. Except for Diego, who discovered a secondary power of holding his breath indefinitely._

_Did they kill Diego? Does anyone even know Five is missing yet?_

*

Vanya had always had this impression that their dad’s work would be meticulously categorised in some revolutionary system. It would be fitting from a man who drew up timetables for them when they were three years old. 

She was surprised when she had asked about dad’s notes, after the Apocalypse, and Luther had advised her of the books upon books of handwritten data. Very little was organised in any way other than chronological. Feeling adrift after everything that had happened, she had taken it upon herself to start creating a filing system of information. Everyone liked the idea except for Diego, who thought their dad’s way was “paranoid, but better than putting all our shit where people can find it”.

It was too much to hope that she would be vindicated by quickly finding something useful using her new system. The notes she had transferred over about Five didn’t contain anything about stopping his powers, so she was forced to rifle back through reams of journals, scanning for a glimpse of Five’s name. 

Pogo would have been able to help. The thought brings an involuntary sound of anguish from her throat. She has to stop reading a second, clasping a hand over her eyes and trying to take deep breaths.

“You okay, Vanya?”

Klaus stands in the doorway of the office, pale and rubbing his arms. 

“How can I be okay?” She says, incredulous and still trying not to cry. “Five is missing. We barely got him back and now he’s gone.”

“He’s not _gone_ , just...” Klaus waves a hand vaguely. He doesn’t look well, but he rarely ever does.

“Please, Klaus. If you can’t help, please just stay with Diego or something? We want to save Five.”

“Oh what, like I don’t?”

He sulks out of the room before Vanya can say anything, so she returns her focus to Dad’s notes.

*

_It’s probably too late to make a will. He would leave all his ill-gotten money to Vanya of course, with a request that she use a portion of it to look after Klaus, who still can’t be trusted with his own funds. Diego – assuming he’s still alive – wouldn’t want any money from him, Luther will undoubtedly have their father’s wealth and Allison has her own._

_But he’s stuck underground slowly suffocating so his options regarding legal agreements are limited at this time. He takes the deepest breath he dares, visualises moving fifteen feet up – just in case he’s been buried deeply. He can take the fall._

_The pain shoots through his chest as it has the last eight times. In his attempts to teleport against the influence of the drugs, Five has sprained… something. Whatever it is in him that controls his ability._

_He’s getting scared._

*

“ **I heard a Rumour… that you’re about to tell me what you did to my brother.** ”

The man Luther’s holding struggles against his grip in vain, making frantic noises.

But he doesn’t answer the question.

Allison scowls and tries again. “ **I heard a Rumour… that you want to tell me where my brother is.** ”

More noises, no words. 

“Why isn’t it working?” Luther asks. It is no effort for him to hold the gangly Commission lackey in place. 

She rips the mask off of their informant to be. Sickly pale with wild watery eyes that can’t seem to settle on her face. 

“Again. **I heard a Rumour… that you’re going to talk to us.** ”

His eyes mist over as her power settles, then he makes the same panicky garbled noise again. Without the mask, Allison can see why. 

“Oh my God. Luther, his tongue’s been removed.”

Luther grabs the man’s jaw to take a look at the scars inside his mouth. He stares in horror. “Why would anyone do that?”

“Because otherwise he’d have spoken to me,” Allison realises. “Shit.”

They let him go and he scrambles away. Neither of them make a move to stop him fleeing. If Allison can’t Rumour the attackers, they’re back to square one.

*

_Five had never expected it to end this way. At his most defeatist, he had imagined dying alongside his family. Seeing their corpses at the end of the world had served him the motherload of survivor’s guilt and he had sworn to never carry it again. Once the Apocalypse had been averted… well, he hadn’t given it any thought really. He had witnessed death and dealt it out but notions of it catching up to him had always seemed vague. Perhaps the others were right. Perhaps he had never really matured from the moment he left._

_He should have made more of an effort with them. Stopping the Apocalypse to save them was a grand impossible gesture, but it wasn’t a life. It wasn’t a substitute for emotional closeness. He spends some time talking to Vanya but if she gets too close to anything personal he flees. He trains with Diego and Luther but they don’t exactly chat and Five ducks out when they try to. He still hasn’t followed through with his promise to meet Allison’s daughter. The most emotional intimacy he gets these days is when he gets drunk with Klaus, who never takes anything seriously enough to be a threat. Or a help._

_What was the point of risking everything to save his family when he’s never even told them their worth?_

*

Time and space for a ghost are… complicated. 

Ben has explained it countless times to Klaus, who occasionally has a whim of wanting to understand him better. But such whims are fleeting and as soon as the conversation gets too complex for a stoner, he taps out. It’s frustrating, to say the least. All Ben has wanted for years is for Klaus to get some focus, take an interest, be motivated to do something with the power he has.

Turns out that can be even more frustrating.

“I’m telling you, I’ve checked the city all over,” he tries to explain again. 

“How can you have checked the whole city?!” Klaus snaps. “It’s only been a few hours! You can’t get around the whole city in every house in a few hours!”

“I’ve told you, I can, it’s just--”

“Buildings have multiple floors! Did you check upper floors?”

“Of course I did! Can you stop snapping at me just because you’re withdrawing and grouchy? Get some water, talk to Mom. Maybe there’s – I can’t believe I’m saying this – something you could take to ease the symptoms of withdrawal?”

“Gotta focus,” Klaus says. “If you can’t find Five, I need to find someone who can. Besides, I’m over the worst of it.”

When he heaves, the vomit goes straight through Ben’s torso.

“Thanks for that.”

*

_Five has a headache. Can’t tell if he’s facing up or down. When he slaps at the coffin in frustration it saps all of his strength._

_This is it then. The end of his second chance at life. At family._

_Most people would admire the accomplishment of averting an Apocalypse. Mere months ago even he would have been proud of himself. He was at the time._

_Now he’s left with the bitter realisation that he won’t be able to ask ‘what next?’ anymore. He spent so long asking himself the question that now the answer is… nothing. No more of Luther’s dumb attempts at family bonding activities. No more of Allison’s surprisingly cutting commentary on life and their siblings. No more getting to know Diego or earning the man’s respect. No more evenings reading while Vanya practises the violin. No more of Klaus’ ideas to--_

_There’s a noise._

_Above._

*

“You need to hurry,” Ben says. “He’s not looking so good.”

Klaus’ skin is on fire and itchy. His head is pounding. He is both hot and cold. The ghosts that he summoned to the house have mostly followed and are quietly looming, while the ones from the graveyard are screaming and scratching at him. The digging is making him sweaty, exhausted and uncomfortable standing in a deepening hole.

“People who can’t lift shovels don’t get to tell shovel-lifters how fast to work!” Klaus snaps.

Nearby stands Lewis, their last-minute witness. Lewis had been buried thirty-six hours ago and had been loitering near the graveyard with ethereal confusion ever since. He had watched as they threw Five into a coffin and buried him here, with a number five scratched into the dirt as the only marker. Some sort of force drew Lewis to the Umbrella Academy and when he saw the Seance shining like a beacon, he had told him all about it.

The shovel hits something solid. Klaus and Ben stare at one another, then Klaus moves into more frantic digging, reinvigorated by how close he is.

“Please be okay Fivey, please...”

Nobody else will drink with him, for one thing.

He had found that as he got deeper into the hole the dirt became harder to throw out and that hasn’t changed now. Klaus flings it over his shoulder, scattering it like heavy confetti through numerous ghosts.

“Hey, watch it,” Ben says. “Throwing gravedirt at the dead is kind of on the nose, you know?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up...” Klaus says, panicking as he reveals the coffin. What if Five’s dying or dead in there? What if that’s what Ben meant by ‘not looking so good’?

Klaus lifts himself up onto the side of the hole out of the way and lays on his tummy, reaching into the ground and pulling the lid of the ramshackle coffin up. He grabs his torch from near his head and shines it down.

Five squints and throws a hand over his eyes. “Who’s there?” 

“YAY!” Klaus claps with unrestrained glee, dropping the torch, which falls into the grave and smacks his brother in the head.

“Ow! Klaus, for fuck’s sake...”

“Sorry, sorry… Here, take my hand.”

His muscles scream at renewed exertion but Klaus pulls Five up onto solid ground and they both sit with their legs dangling in the grave. Five takes a deep breath of cool night air and closes his eyes.

“Where are the others?” 

“Looking for you. Less effectively.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Not particularly. Is Diego okay?”

“A little bashed up, but he’s a masochist. He’ll be fine.”

A ghost howls by his ear. Klaus flinches. They’re all still there and getting more solid by the moment. He fishes in his pocket for some drugs. 

“And are _you_ okay?” Five asks, looking at him as he had after ‘nam, with the closest expression he had to concern.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s sweet of you to act like you care though.” 

He’s half-joking, for all that Ben hisses and mutters, “harsh.”

“I do care,” Five says seriously. When Klaus has swallowed down a strong pill and turns to look at him, Five is staring out across the graveyard. “I care more than anything about all of you. I’d hoped you knew that.”

“Well sure. Same here,” Klaus says. “You guys are all I’ve got, you know.”

Five nods slowly. “I know.” Smiles a little, not his smug smirk or his fake grin, but his slight show of satisfaction. “I’m glad you knew too. That’s reassuring.”

“Awww, Five!” Klaus throws his arms around him and squeezes. “Look at us having a heart-to-heart over an open grave like mature adults in touch with our feelings!”

“Get off of me. I’m too sober for this.”

“Yet another thing we have in common,” Klaus says.

They trudge home to the bar of their deceased father, where they talk to Vanya, check on Diego and drink until Allison and Luther get home, at which point Five drunkenly informs the surprised pair how much he loves them, “despite your raging incompetence durin’ my time of crisis.”

“Uh… love you too?” Luther says.

Klaus applauds. “Such wholesome an’ moving emotions! Five should be buried ‘live more often.”

When Five swats at Klaus he overbalances and falls off his stool and teleports to the sofa on reflex. “Oh. My power’s workin’ again.”

“It’s the healin’ power of loving your family,” Klaus says proudly.

*

_Why is it dark?_

_He sits up in a panic. Then he sees the glow of the lamps in the foyer, the shine of moonlight through the window against the polished surface of the bar._

_His eyes grow accustomed to the night. The little sleepy huffs of breath are Klaus, who has passed out against him on the sofa. Glasses of water have been left on the coffee table. Vanya has fallen asleep on his other side with a book open on her lap. Luther and Allison have settled into a large armchair together, a tired-looking Luther steadying her as she talks quietly about something. Diego is in the other armchair. Even in this low light Five can see his injuries, but if he’s well enough to have made his way up to them, he’s on the mend._

_What next?_

_In the morning, Five will thank Diego for having his back and they’ll brainstorm strategies to negate the danger of drugged darts. Luther’s a fair tactician, he can help them with that. Five will ask Vanya about her investigation into dad’s work and they can study some more of that together or he can study while she practises violin. He’ll talk to Allison about the date of her next visit with Claire and ask if he can tag along. He’ll tackle the subject of detox with Klaus again, but he suspects they’ll end up restocking the bar instead._

_It’s a plan. If he’s lucky and determined, it’s the start of a real life._

_Five has no intention of being buried again before he’s lived._


End file.
